


To say "I Love You"

by felicityoverlordsmoak (overlordfsmoak)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Season 4 Spoilers, v: main
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overlordfsmoak/pseuds/felicityoverlordsmoak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble about Oliver's thoughts of "I love you"s while Felicity's in the hospital after being shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To say "I Love You"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is my first drabble/work with Olicity. I just had this thought that kept bugging me until I wrote it. This is also my first time writing in Oliver's POV too so hopefully it's okay :) Thank you for reading!

_I love you._

The first time he told her he loved her, he sent her into Slade’s arms. He tried to lie. He didn’t love her then, didn’t know the meaning of love. He didn’t love her, no, he admired her. She was the light and he was darkness. He gazed at her with wonders. How could someone so beautiful and so pure look at him like that? Did she not know how many lives he had taken? How stained with blood his hands were? Yet, she never hesitated to wrap her arms around him. He was scared. Scared of staining that innocence that was Felicity. He was terrified of the consequences of the life he led. It would lead to her death, surely. He knew that the moment he brought her into this, and yet he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t allow himself to do this without her because he had needed her. He needed her skills - or so he thought. He wasn’t sure when she became such an integral part of who he was. The person who called him out, the person who never wavered when everyone did under his gaze, she held her grounds and in turn he succumbed to her. She didn’t need to stand. She didn’t need the salmon ladder or a bow and arrow. She was just her.

 

_I love you._

The second time he was saying goodbye. She had to know. She had to know that he loved her. Whoever he was, Oliver Queen, the Arrow, the Hood, billionaire playboy, he was a man who loved her. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure if there was anyone who didn’t love this woman. I’ll come back, he wanted to say. What would be the point? She wouldn’t believe him. It amazed him how well she was able to read him even before she knew him. He wanted to come back. He wanted to make it right with her. To kiss her and tell her he loved her properly. Not because he wanted to fool a killer, not because he was going to face his own death, but because he wanted her.

 

_I love you._

The third time was out of desperation. He was never going to return. He was the man who would do anything to save his sister even if it meant selling the last bit of his humanity. He was the kind of man who would go to ends of the world to protect the small ball of energy that was Thea. He remembered how small her hands were when she grabbed him for the first time. She was only a few minutes old and yet she was the world to him. Even now, even with Felicity in his world, he couldn’t let her die. So he etched the words onto her skin. Whispered out of desperation, making sure she knew, assuring that she understood his love. He repeated it over and over again as she came.

 

Since then he had told her every chance he got. Whispered on her lips in the morning, moaned into her, laughed against her neck as her fingers raked through his hair. Loving her was bliss. Loving her was his salvation. Every time he said it, she had heard him. Sometimes she’d reply to him with a kiss, a tug on his hair, a huff of air on his chest, or a playful slap, but no matter what she answered him with he was sure he heard her. Except now.

  
Felicity was lying in the hospital bed, looking paler than he had seen her. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken a word for the past twelve hours and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why she hadn’t woken up. He didn’t know why she had gotten shot. She was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be protected and tucked away. If she was awake, Oliver was certain she’d lecture him for that thought. She wasn’t a feather; she was capable of protecting herself and he was not the boss of her. But if it meant that she’d wake up, that her lip would upturn, that she would frown and shout at him, he’d do it. He would do anything if it brought her back.  He hadn’t moved an inch from her side. His fingers laced with hers, his thumb brushing the back of her hand the way he knew she liked. But there was nothing. The nurses encouraged him to go home and get some rest. It could take a while, they told him for the millionth time but he refused. He didn’t want her to wake up without him. For the past eight months, they had always woken up next to each other, her legs tangled with his. There were days when he’d wake before the sunrise and she was still a mess of blonde beside him. He would go out for a quick jog, brew a pot of coffee, and slip back into bed before she woke up. There were days when he would lie there and watch her. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath. The way her lip turned up in her sleep. The way she’d seek out his heat the moment he sunk into bed with her. They were magnets and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Today would not be an exception. When she wakes up from her slumber, he would be there. He would smile at her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are highly encouraged to help me better my writings :)


End file.
